Notes
by sleepyheadfan20
Summary: Abbie and Crane are neighbors. They leave each other notes that will reconnect them with those who've hurt them. Will these notes connect them with each other as well?
1. The Note

First chapter of this AU. Happy Monday. :) I hope you like it. I'm really excited for this story. Can't wait to see where it goes.

* * *

"Fucking leave then," Abbie threw her plate in the sink.

"No congratulations, Abbs?" Danny said, her two-year boyfriend.

They had dinner in her living room. Chinese take-out because she wasn't a cook. He had news and told her he decided uproot to Chicago for a position as a police chief. He enjoyed working with her at the Sleepy Hollow FBI headquarters, but Chicago was home. He wanted to make a difference there.

"I'm not going to keep you here."

She wanted him to go for his dreams. She honestly did, but a part of her didn't. He was leaving her and didn't plan on coming back. Oh, yeah, he also thought they should end their relationship. He didn't do long distance.

"I don't know why you're upset." He dumped his food in the trash and put his plate on the counter. "I thought you'd be happy. This is my career we're talking about."

She rinsed their dishes. "I am happy, Danny."

"I know what this is about."

She turned the water off, faced him. "You have no fucking idea."

"I never thought you were the jealous type."

She pushed past him to finish clearing the table. It had nothing to do with jealousy. She'd let him think that though. He always did have a fucking ego. Maybe they were better off apart.

"You can't handle that I'll be moving up the ladder while you're stuck here in this shithole," he said.

"Whatever helps you sleep." She closed the containers and put them in the fridge. Grabbed a beer.

"Then what the hell is it?"

Her mom's abandonment really knew how to fuck her over. Now that Danny was leaving, she'd be that lonely girl again, with a sister she rarely spoke to. Her beer swished bitter in her stomach. She shouldn't take her issues out on him, but she trusted him enough to let him close to her. She didn't expect him to just go, to plant his career above her.

"Shut me out then." He snatched his jacket from the chair, slammed the door behind him.

Her beer left a wet splat on the door.

* * *

Crane put his book down after he heard glass against a door or a wall. He didn't know which, but he was sure it came from the space next to him. He opened his door and peeked out to find a man rushing down the hall. He was new to this apartment complex. The landlord said it was a quiet place to reside. He hoped he wouldn't be wrong about this. Drama couldn't be here, too.

He cracked his door, walked to hers. Should he knock? What if the lady here didn't want to talk to him at the moment? The argument sounded awful. He wanted to make sure no one was harmed though. He went back into his apartment, scrambled for a piece of paper, and a pen. A note would suffice.

 _I heard a dispute and glass thrown while enjoying a book. Is everything alright? Should I call the landlord or law enforcement?_

 _-Ichabod Crane, 205_

With his note in hand, he stood at her door. He raised his hand to knock. Then he thought better of it again. He knew very well the luxury of silence after a conflict. Once he slid the note under her door, he went back to his book.

* * *

Abbie held a broom and a dust pan. The last thing she wanted to see was Danny. Good thing he didn't live with her. He did have stuff over unfortunately—a few shirts, a spare toothbrush, some of his nasty breakfast cereal. She hoped he wasn't coming back tonight. He never came back after a dispute anyway.

As she bent down to sweep the brown glass, she saw a piece of paper: a note with handwriting. She placed the broom and pan against the door, carefully picked up the scrap. She didn't need glass stuck in her fingers either. Her next door neighbor wanted to check up on her. That was sweet. This must've been the new neighbor her landlord told her about. A couple who made love to a French jazz musician lived next door, but they moved. They never left her a note after her fights. She folded the slip, stuffed it in her pocket with a small smile. She'd write back to Mr. 205.

* * *

She wanted to knock, but she didn't. What if he was in the shower or sleep or something? After her loud spat, it didn't feel right to disturb him. She slid the note under his door.

* * *

As Crane left the kitchen to turn in, he caught a piece of paper in front of his door. He wasn't expecting her to write back, let alone a response at all. It excited him that she did. He opened it.

 _I'm fine. Just had an argument with my boyfriend. No one is hurt. Thanks for the concern. My landlord told me I had a new neighbor. Welcome._

 _-Abbie Mills, 204_

Crane smiled, glad all was well. He stuffed the note in his book. Yes, welcome indeed.


	2. Morning

The sun wasn't quite up yet, but the knock on his door decided to give him a head start on his day. He grumbled and slung his covers back. Grabbed his robe. When he opened the door, he sighed at the redhead and green-eyed woman in his doorway. She wore a gray pantsuit and heels, probably off to work. Books were in her hand.

"How did you find me, Katrina?" He rubbed his forehead, already knowing his day was about to turn out wrong.

She stepped in without his invitation. "Your parents like me, remember?"

"Of course, they do." He shut the door. "Why are you here?"

His parents were fond of her, unfortunately. They took her side on everything regarding him: his profession, his eating habits, his friends, his hobbies. He could never live up to their expectations.

"You forgot these other boring books." She held them out.

He took them from her. She always disregarded his love for literature. She never understood why he'd just read and read for hours on end.

"'Thank you, Katrina,'" she said.

"You may leave now."

He wasn't thanking her for anything, not after all the hell he endured with her. She didn't deserve his thanks, nor him. They dated for three years until two weeks ago. He met her at a yogurt shop. Both of them shared a passion for history—in different ways though. She was a businesswoman, with her own boutique selling 17th century dresses and corsets to adults for Halloween, Renaissance festivals, reenactments, and just because. Lady Katrina's was quite successful; she expanded it last year to another location in Sleepy Hollow. Crane liked that she owned her own retail store. He enjoyed seeing her thrive and supported her, even told his co-workers to check out her store.

That support was only one-sided. She didn't appreciate his career of librarianship. Introducing kids and adults to historical fiction or historical texts, in general, fulfilled him. Of course, the texts didn't interest all of the readers, but he was excited when they wanted to read more or found a book fit for them. He thought about becoming a history professor or a history tutor a while ago. Since his parents and Katrina didn't support it, he didn't. His father owned a boat company while his mother acquired a tea and coffee shop. Naturally, he was expected to follow their lead.

"If you didn't stick your head in so many fairytales, you would've been a great businessman, Ichabod Crane."

He tightened his hands on his novels. "I said leave."

"It's a shame, really. You're wasting your life away with stories older than you. You know your parents didn't want this. I didn't want this."

"Get out of my home!" He rushed to the door.

She stepped out, and he slammed the door behind her. He didn't give damn what anyone else wanted.

* * *

Abbie looked up from her coffee mug and toward the wall in her kitchen. Mr. 205 didn't sound happy this morning. She heard him yell and a door slam. Who would visit him this early anyway and why in the world would he let them in? He seemed like the quiet type, judging by his note. He liked books, she knew. From what she could hear, he had a British accent. It sounded nice, just angry.

She found some tape and a notepad in her drawer. Grabbing her pen from last night, she scribbled down a message and ripped it out. Hopefully, this would cheer him up this morning. Fighting with someone was always a pain in the ass. Plus, he checked on her last night. It was only fair to return the favor.

* * *

Crane paced in his living room, books still in hand. He set them down, balled his fists. Why couldn't his parents and Katrina understand he didn't want what they want? They always shoved suits and ties and loafers and money and supply and demand and customers and other terms associated with business down his throat. That's why he broke up with Katrina. All she talked about was him starting a business. She never supported what he believed in. His parents were thrilled when he brought her home to meet them.

"Maybe she'll talk you into being like us, son," his father said the first time they all had dinner together. His mother couldn't help but agree.

He heard a knock on his door. If it was Katrina… It turned out to be no one. He glanced in both directions down the hall. A note taped to his door caught his eye. He took it down and went inside, smiling.

 _Good morning, Mr. 205. Ichabod, though, right? Heard some commotion. Don't know what happened, but if they aren't in your corner, fuck them. Enjoy your day._

 _-Abbie Mills, 204_

He laughed and thoroughly enjoyed her sharp tongue. His day didn't seem so awful now.

* * *

Thin walls made for easy hearing. Her ear was posed against the kitchen wall. Abbie bit the smile away from her lips when she listened to him laugh. It was nice, like spreading her fingers to let cool rain slip between them. Whatever relationship or friendship went wrong, she hoped it wouldn't hurt him too bad. Maybe they'd make up. Her relationships seemed to go to hell and stay there once and for all, she thought while she cleared her table and got dressed.

Danny didn't come by last night. He did text her to tell her he'd be over to get his things later on today after work. That was fine. He was always an opportunist anyway, competing when things weren't a competition. It was safe to say their relationship was officially over.

He makes number four. The fourth person to walk away from her for selfish reasons. First, it was her dad, who abandoned her and her sister, Jenny, when they were kids for a woman who lived in New York City. She had three dogs and always went to California for vacation. Guess old daddy wanted that lifestyle.

Her mom was next. She chose her stupid ass boyfriend over them every time. She wanted to keep him so much that she even dropped them off at Sheriff Corbin's house next door. The fucker didn't like kids, so mama forced Sheriff Corbin to keep them after school and during summer break. They saw mama again late at night, when her boyfriend left for work.

Corbin was a gentle man and didn't seem to mind them staying. Sometimes, he made them homemade teddy bears and t-shirts with their names on them. They knew him beforehand. At least mama didn't put them with a complete stranger. Every Saturday, his son, Joe, would invite them over for a movie or a board game. Before they went home, Sheriff Corbin always let them roast marshmallows for s'mores. They'd return home sticky, with a chocolate high. Abbie always swore she saw a mermaid disappear in the stars as she walked home, her belly and brain tucked of sweet.

On down the list was Jenny. She loved her sister. Always. She was mad at her, too, because she also left her. After Jenny graduated high school, she decided to enlist in the military with Joe. She was happy traveling all over the world. Their last night in America wasn't the best. They got into it.

"Excuse me, Abbie, for wanting to be fucking happy for once. What's wrong with that?" Jenny had said.

She wanted her sister happy. More than anyone. But it was like dad and mama abandoning her all over again, throwing her aside like she threw her shoes off into a corner after work. How was she not supposed to feel that?

Abbie used her favorite phrase, the one that implied she was getting ready to cut you off and shut you out completely.

"Fucking leave then," she said.

So Jenny did. They spoke a few times through postcards and two-minute phone calls; they never saw each other if she was home. Abbie did want to have an in depth talk about how they left things. She just didn't know if Jenny would be willing. She missed her sister and knew she shouldn't blame her for leaving.

Mama and dad, however, were different stories. She resented the hell out of mama, who called for Wednesday dinner all the time. Abbie always made an excuse of why she couldn't come. It was normally something around work. Her mama never pushed or called her out about it. She always said maybe Abbie would change her mind next time. She never did.

She didn't speak to her dad at all. He reached out to her, apologizing for his behavior. She always said okay and that she had to go. He suggested they meet. She said no to him, too.

Maybe Abbie was selfish wanting everyone to stay. All she wanted was to feel like a priority, important. She never got that from her parents. The closest thing to it was Sheriff Corbin. He really was like a father figure to her. She eventually worked with him at the Sleepy Hollow Sheriff's Department before going to the FBI. He mentored and trained her, stepped up when her own parents didn't. She could never buy him enough apple pie and ice cream to thank him. She met him every Sunday at their favorite diner.

Somewhere, way down where Abbie couldn't find, she wanted to reconnect with all of them. She missed the way her family was before things started going wrong.

She had just gathered her keys and purse when she heard a knock. No one was there when she answered. She spotted a white piece of paper on her door. She bit her lip, chuckled, and shook her head. Mr. 205 again. Their back and forth excited her.

 _Thank you for the cheer, Ms. Abbie. As much as I would like to, I cannot. I am not one to hold grudges for long periods. I feel much lighter when I do not._

 _Anyway, I was fighting with my ex. I do apologize if we disturbed your morning rest. Enjoy your day as well. I hope all is fine between you and your beau._

 _-Ichabod Crane, 205_

She didn't know when, but as she stuck the note in her purse, she knew she wanted that lightness one day.


	3. Lunch

I'm sorry for not updating in a while. Didn't mean to keep you waiting so long. Enjoy. :)

* * *

As Abbie was about to dig into her pasta, her phone rang. Sighing, with her fork in mid-air, she checked the caller I.D. Jenny. She put her fork down. The note Crane left her this morning, the lightness she wanted, the last time she saw her sister in person—it's been eleven years—all showered her at once.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Abbs."

"Hey." She pushed her food around.

"How are things?"

"Good. What about for you?"

"Good." Jenny paused. "I'm in town today."

Abbie bit her lip. Should she really do this? What would come of it? Would they argue again?

She breathed deep. "Okay, I'll meet you."

"'Okay?'"

Her previous answers centered around "I can't see you today" or "Another time". Never this.

"At the park."

"You sure?"

"Six," Abbie said.

"See you then."

"Okay." She hung up, shuffled some papers on her desk to still the nerves that wouldn't quit leaping in her belly.

What did she just do? Was she really ready? Breathe deep, she thought. Just breathe. She did; it didn't help.

* * *

He didn't see a note when he left for work. It disappointed him. Perhaps Abbie would leave one later this evening, he thought. Their written exchanges gave him something to look forward to. Katrina had already ruined his peaceful morning, though he was slowly letting it go. He prayed for strength while he waited for his parents to show for lunch. There was no telling what he'd endure with them.

He wished he had more books to re-shelve instead of sitting at an empty table. Honestly, he can't remember why he agreed to meet his parents for lunch every other day during the week, but he knew why. He still sought their approval. Just once he'd like for them to say they're proud of who he was. He sighed, shook his head, and sipped his water. It was never going to happen. Yet as he saw his parents enter, in their name brand pantsuits, that little penny-sized hope filled his chest as it always did.

"It's nice to see you, mother and father." He stood to kiss his mother's cheek and shake his father's hand. "I'm pleased you could join me. How are the businesses going?"

They sat down, unfolded their napkins to place in their laps.

"Quite well, Ichabod. I added a new tea to my menu," his mother said. "I'm thinking about including a few pastries in my shop. It'll be something simple, like scones or muffins."

"As for me, I might manufacture a new line of boats that are better equipped with today's technology and update their designs. It is time for something fresh."

"That sounds interesting. I hope both of your companies flourish because of the new changes."

He meant that, even though he didn't own a business himself. His parents' success mattered to him. They worked hard.

"Thank you, Ichabod," his father said as his mother nodded.

He hoped they'd ask him about his job. Of course, they wouldn't. He knew that. But that penny-sized hope had a way of getting to him.

"Have you spoken to Katrina, dear son?" his mother said.

Ichabod sighed. They always did this, brought Katrina up in the conversation so casually, like commenting on how pretty the day was. He wasn't with her anymore. They were so disappointed about the break-up, as if Katrina was the best thing that ever happened to him. He wasn't about to go into detail about earlier. They'd just take her side.

"I saw her this morning. She returned a few books I left."

"You shouldn't have let her go. She was such a lovely woman," she said.

"She didn't respect and support my choices and career. Why would I want to stay in a relationship with a person like that? I was miserable with her."

"You should've listened to her, Ichabod. She's very bright with a commendable career. She has two locations now for her business. Can you believe it? She's going to go far."

He nodded. "Agreed, father. However, we aren't meant for each other."

"She was the only woman willing to put up with your job, dear son. What is your annual salary? Forty to fifty thousand a year?" His mother threw her hand. "You could make so much more if only you'd go into business. Why don't you own a bookstore?"

His fingers wiggled under the table. He wanted to tell his mother that his annual salary was more than enough for him. Owning a bookstore was out of the question. Books should be free, not priced. Ironically, he did buy them, only because he had no other choice. If it was up to him, he'd never charge for books. Everyone had a right to free reading, to free, unlimited knowledge.

Before he could tell his mother any of this, the waiter came to remind them their order was on the way. Ichabod knew exactly what his parents preferred. It never changed. Lemon pepper salmon, garlic mashed potatoes, and lightly salted broccoli for his father. Steak, unseasoned asparagus, and fried corn for his mother. Crane tried something different each time.

"Thank you for ordering for us, Ichabod," his father said.

He sipped more of his water. "You're welcome."

"Think about a bookstore, son. It's probably the best thing for you. Why not make a profit off of what you love?"

"I do not wish to."

"Katrina could talk you into it."

He took a larger swig of water. Why didn't his parents understand that he and Katrina weren't together anymore? He didn't want her. Why couldn't they see he wasn't interested in business whatsoever? He was his own person. Who said he had to be just like his parents? Lunch couldn't be over fast enough.

"Oh, look. Our meal has arrived." He smiled at the waiter, who placed their plates in front of them and left.

"What do you have there, Ichabod? Soup?" His father laughed. "Our boy's got soup this time."

Mother shook her head, covered her mouth to hide her giggles. "There is nothing filling about soup. You need something on those bones of yours. You should've gotten something more hearty, meaty. Fish or steak. Chicken or beef."

Ichabod didn't say anything because there was no point. They always commented on his meal. Either it wasn't enough or too much. That penny-sized hope he had earlier wasn't a penny anymore. It was more like the tip of needle. Even less than. Practically nonexistent. They didn't even ask him about work.

Each time, at the end of lunch, he found himself foolish to think they'd change, but he wanted to give them a chance to get it right. They never did. He didn't want to care anymore about his parents' approval and wishes for him. Earlier he said he didn't give a damn about what they wanted. What a lie he told himself. A part of him would continuously strive for their praises. If he's honest, he'll permanently be like his soup bowl: empty because he'd never be enough for them.

Abbie's note clouded his thoughts. His parents weren't in his corner. Never would be. Perhaps he should write them off completely. "Fuck them," as she wrote.


	4. Park

Waiting under a gazebo, Abbie checked her cell phone. She was two minutes early. What in the world was she going to say to Jenny? An apology would work, since she did run her off. Was Jenny even excited to see her? She's never been a nervous person. Her emotions remained under control unless she was at home. This was different. Someone must've tied anchors to her legs and arms. She wanted release from the anger she carried for so long toward her family, to not be heavy anymore. Being pissed all the time tired her.

She checked her phone again. Six o'clock. She glanced around the park. For a second she thought Jenny wasn't going to show, but when she saw a tall woman with curly hair in a ponytail, she knew it was her sister. Shades covered her eyes. Jenny dressed in a t-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. She held her cell phone and keys. Her sister didn't change a bit. That's all she wore in high school. A small smile crossed her lips.

"I'm glad you could come," Jenny said.

They sat down; Jenny removed her shades.

"It's been a minute." Abbie paused. "How is Joe? How is the military?"

"He's great. We're married now. And the military is the military. I travel and train. It's getting kind of old. I'm ready for some stability."

She didn't know her sister was married. When did this happen? Why wasn't she invited? Was there a big wedding with doves and orchids and ugly bridesmaid dresses? Did she get hitched in Las Vegas or go to the courthouse? Why didn't Corbin tell her? He always saw Jenny when she was home. She knew because he told her and pushed her to see her.

"You didn't send me an invite in the mail."

She glanced away. "I thought you were still mad at me. It's not like you made any attempts to see me then until now."

"How was it?"

"Kind of sad."

Abbie knew sorry wouldn't work, so she didn't say it. That was a moment she could never get back. She could kick herself for missing it.

"Congrats."

"Thanks. What about you?"

"Boyfriends here and there, but nothing too serious. I work in the FBI now."

"That must be great. Sounds intense."

"It can be. It's worth it though. I'm happy there."

"Good." She paused. "Mama and dad came. Of course, Corbin was there. We said vows at the courthouse three years ago. You wouldn't believe it, but I wore a dress. And heels."

Abbie chuckled. "I need pictures."

Jenny hated dressing up.

"I burned them all." She grinned.

"Damn. I bet Corbin has a few left."

"He does. I'll be sure to get those from him, too." Another pause. "They asked about you, you know? Said they tried to reach out."

"I don't know if I can face them, Jenny. After what they did to us…"

Abbie flinched when Jenny linked her pinky with hers. It was then that her nerves and the heaviness fled. They did this as kids, when they didn't feel loved by their parents or if something bad happened at school. It reminded them they had each other. Abbie squeezed her pinky.

"I know it hurts like hell, Abbs. I was angry for a while, too. After I came back from my first year in the military, I realized that life will take every fucking thing away from you. You have to get it all back before it's too late."

"What changed?"

"I didn't see anyone die, but there were stories I heard. Horrible things about people dying. You can't even imagine, Abbie. I can't even imagine." Jenny swallowed her tears. "I knew I had to make it right. That's what I did."

She wanted all the details. What was their excuse for abandoning them? Growing up, they needed their parents for broken hearts, award ceremonies, proms, driving lessons. Corbin was there with them through all of those milestones. Abbie didn't think they deserved her forgiveness.

"Was it hard?"

"It nearly blew my fucking head off. Once I talked to them, really talked to them without yelling, I felt better, lighter. They apologized for everything and cried their eyes out doing it. They regret their choices."

"How often do you see them?"

"Whenever I'm here. I'm meeting mama tomorrow and dad before I go back Thursday. You're welcome to come. They'd love to see you."

She shook her head. She was just beginning to reconnect with her sister. There was no way she was prepared to speak to her parents. Not yet at least.

"Maybe another time." She tightened her grip around Jenny's pinky. "I'm sorry about how I left things. I didn't mean to push you away. It was just—"

"I know, Abbs."

She stared at their pinkies, let the tears come. "I missed you, sissy."

The last time she called her that was during their high school graduation. It filled a part of her she missed, the part that was less afraid because her sister was there beside her. She really did miss her, especially on birthdays and holidays. Either she spent them with friends from work or Corbin. Her and Jenny at least called each other on those days. It made Abbie feel a little less lonely. She was definitely glad to have her back now. Jenny clutched her other pinky as she cried, too.

After they dried their tears, Abbie talked again.

"You know I hate this park?"

"I hated it for a while, too. Not anymore. Why here?"

It was the last place their dad took them before he left once and for all. They slayed dinosaurs and dad bought them snow cones, which they pretended were colored crystals that gave them powers to defeat more dinosaurs. Their imaginations were something else back then.

"I don't know. I guess I wanted a better memory, a new one."

"Is it a little better now?"

She looked around, then at her sister. "Yeah."

"Good."

"Jenny?"

She waited for the question.

"Why did you remain in contact with me? I wasn't the best supportive sister when you told me you were leaving."

"I thought about never speaking to you again. You didn't seem to want to make an effort. But you're my sister. And Corbin said you'd come around when you were ready. He was right. Plus, I guess I just wanted you to know I was still there."

"I'm sorry I didn't return the favor."

"I already forgave you. Stop apologizing."

Abbie would never be done apologizing. She thought it was very big of her sister to do that despite how Abbie treated her. She'd make it up to her. What was she thinking not seeing her sister in almost a decade?

"Well, it's getting late," Jenny said. "I still have to go see the old man."

"Tell Corbin hi for me."

They stood to hug; Jenny spoke into her shoulder.

"It's okay to let go, Abbs."

As Abbie clung to her sister, she knew it was.

* * *

Abbie thought she'd leave a note for Mr. 205 before she headed in for tonight. He's been kind to her. She searched through her purse for an old receipt and a pen.

* * *

It was around seven-thirty when Crane finally returned home. His day had gone wrong. First with Katrina. Then with his parents. He perked up when saw Abbie's note between his frame and door.

 _You're right about not holding grudges. It does feel lighter when you don't. I met my sister today. We hadn't seen each other in a while. We're good now. My parents are next. Hope the rest of your day wasn't too shitty. Have a good night, Mr. 205. Thanks for everything._

 _-Abbie Mills, 204_

Whatever happened between her and her sister, he was glad they were able to come together again. He hoped the situation between her and her parents would work out for the best. If hers were anything like his, then he wished her well for sure. At least she could be happy. That's all he wanted for her, though he didn't quite know her. He thinks he'd like her if he met her.

He tucked the note in his pocket, went inside. Immediately, he grabbed a pen and a few stick notes.

* * *

Abbie heard the knock as she fixed herself a sandwich. She couldn't help but smile and enjoy the fireflies that drifted in her stomach while she hurried to open the door.

 _Thank you for bidding me good night and for your notes. Unfortunately, my day did turn out rather shitty. However, coming upon your note has greatly improved it. I'm glad you connected with your sister again. I hope the same happens for you and your parents. I have unresolved conflict with mine, too. Let's hope it ends well for the both of us. Pleasant dreams, Miss Mills._

 _-Ichabod Crane, 205_

She was glad to have made his evening better. His simple notes did that for her. Maybe one day, she'd get to actually see him. It sucked about his parents. They had something in common. She wondered what happened with them, hoped they worked it out. She'd write him back in the morning, stuck the note on the fridge with the others.


	5. Dad

Enjoy. :)

* * *

 _Morning, Mr. 205. Have a good day today, okay? Do what's best for you. :) If it doesn't work out between your parents, at least you tried._

 _-Abbie Mills, 204_

She didn't bother knocking, so she stuck it between his door before she headed off to work. It was eight something in the morning. People needed their rest.

Maybe she should take her own advice. Her parents have tried to rebuild their relationship with her. And she has already taken the first step by reconnecting with Jenny. It didn't make any sense to go backward. What the hell then? she thought. Now, it's just a matter of where to start. She wasn't sure which one of her parents pissed her off the most. They both did incredible damage. Sighing, she decided not to think about it until her lunch break.

* * *

When Crane opened his door, a slip of paper fell to the floor. Of course, he smiled and picked it up. This was their routine, one he enjoyed more than he should. He liked her encouragement. It gave him this little extra push to confront his mother and father. Even if they disregarded everything he said, he'd still be who he was; he'd be okay.

His time was limited, as he had to make his way to work. He'd be sure to write back later on tonight.

* * *

"How you doing, kid?" Corbin said.

Abbie stirred her chili, smiled. "Good. Just wanted to talk."

"Jen Jen told me you two saw each other."

"We did. I've missed her."

"I'm proud of you, kid."

She nodded. "Thanks."

"What's the problem?"

"Jenny and I are getting back to where we were, but things with my parents..."

"Do you want to speak to them?"

"I don't know."

"You do know."

"I don't, Corbin."

"A, don't sit in that anger."

"It's 'A' now?"

"Abbie," he said.

She did want to settle things with them. That lightness she felt after meeting Jenny was something she wanted again. It was good for her.

"I hear you, okay? Just tell me who's next."

"Only you know that."

"You're supposed to be helping me."

She never liked it when she didn't get straight answers from him, yet she understood them all. He was telling her without telling her.

"I am helping you. You'll be fine."

She didn't think she'd be, but Corbin always had a way of making her believe him. She smiled a little. Speaking to her dad would be a bit easier than speaking to mama. She harbored so much resentment against her that she's wasn't prepared to see her yet.

"Thanks, Corbin."

"Make it right, kid."

She nodded. "Later."

After they hung up, Abbie dialed her dad's number before she lost her nerve. What if she was too late and he didn't want to see her?

"Hello?" he said. "Abbie?"

His voice hit her, and she didn't hold her tears back. She loved his voice, his full baritone. He sung them a lullaby to chase away their fears about the boogie man when they were younger. The song was about a butterfly searching for a home, for love. That's what his voice sounded like in her ear. She wiped her face.

"Yeah."

"How are you?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Good." He paused. "I'm surprised you called."

"Yeah."

She didn't know how to feel.

"I've missed you, Abigail. I'm so, so sorry for—"

"Can we meet?"

She didn't think this conversation should happen over the phone.

"Where and when?"

"Around six today. At the park."

"I'll see you then."

"Yeah." Abbie ended the call, inhaled and exhaled.

* * *

Crane reorganized a stack of books while he thought about Abbie's note. He texted his parents and told them he'd meet them for dinner this evening to have a conversation with them. They had to know once and for all they couldn't dictate his life. It was _his_ life. He hoped they'd really listen. All they heard were themselves. Funnily enough, even after their recent horrid lunch, the little boy in him still desired their approval. He thought he'd always want that from them. But if his last lunch date with them taught him anything at all, it's that they wouldn't give it to him. He wasn't like them: all business-like and money talk. However, as Abbie reminded him, at least he tried. He'd make one more attempt.

* * *

Abbie was here again, in the same park, in the exact same spot under the gazebo, two minutes early. Maybe this is where she'd reunite with all her family, make better experiences with them.

She played with her hands as she waited out the time. Would she scream at him or hear him out? How does she even start this conversation? She never answered her own questions because her time ran out. There he was, walking toward her in a black jacket and dark blue jeans. He pocketed his hands, stared at his heavy boots, the ones he gardened in before he left home. Abbie liked to help in the garden. It was their thing.

As he got closer, he gave her a small smile she didn't return. She stared elsewhere. Her hands continued to fumble, even when he sat down beside her.

"Hi, Abigail."

"Hi."

"Thanks for meeting me."

"Yeah."

"Listen, Abbie, I can't even begin to say—"

She looked at him. "Why did you do it?"

There was no reason for him to have abandoned them like he did. He and mama had their problems. They fought in the late hours. She doesn't know much about what went on though. All she knew was her dad never came back. No calls, no visits. Nothing could fill that cavity after he left.

"My leaving had nothing to do with you or your sister. It had everything to do with me and your mother. She'd been cheating on me with someone from work. I left when I found out." He paused. "In doing that, I hurt you girls. I can never take that back."

The day after the park, Abbie and Jenny drew pictures in their room when they heard their dad's boots stomp down the hall. They stood in their doorway, saw him walk pass with a suitcase. They followed him down the stairs. Their questions couldn't help but meet his ears; he turned to them, got on his knees, hugged them, and kissed both of their foreheads.

"Will you come back?" Abbie said.

"No, sweetie."

"This is your home. Where will you go?" Jenny said.

"New York. A friend I know lives there. She has three dogs and likes to travel to California."

"Can we come?" Abbie said.

He kissed her forehead again. "You have to stay here. I love you girls. Take care of each other. Promise?" He held out his pinky for them. They linked theirs with his.

"Promise," they said.

He kissed their cheeks and walked out the door. They stood there, clinging to the other's pinkies, hoping he'd come back.

A week later, mama moved in her punk ass boyfriend. Abbie didn't know that she cheated on him. Mama told them that dad didn't want to be with her anymore, like it was him who made that choice when she forced him to make it from the start. She didn't think she could dislike mama any more than she did now. Her skin turned warm; she swallowed.

"Why didn't you come to visit or call?"

"I didn't know what your mother had said to you all about what happened, about me. I had a feeling it wasn't the truth. If I had remained in contact, I didn't know who you'd believe. It wouldn't have done any good if I put you two in a situation to where you had to choose between your parents. I thought it'd be best if you stayed with her."

"It wasn't what was best. We needed you. Jenny and I sat in the living room before school the next few days, waiting." Her tears came. "You didn't show up for us."

Looking to be near tears himself, he put his hand over hers. Then he pulled her to him. She didn't fight his embrace.

"I'm so sorry I failed you girls."

As she felt herself letting go of her anger and loneliness, her dad sung the lullaby to her. The lightness overtook her again. It filled the cavity.

* * *

"How is New York?" Abbie said, wiping her face and putting some space between them. "You told us you knew someone there."

"New York is nice. You should come visit. Her name is Lindsey. She's a nice woman, but we're just friends. I knew her from work and stayed at her place until I found my own."

"You two never had a thing?"

It would've bothered her if they did, especially if they had children. He'd belong to that family, sing them lullabies and create gardens.

"She wanted one; we tried for a while, but I couldn't be with anyone else after your mother."

There were a lot of things Abbie didn't know. She had more questions, ones only mama could answer. She'd need plenty of strength and peace to face her. She tore their family apart. How could Jenny forgive her for that?

"I see."

"It was finally good to see you."

"You, too, dad." She saw tears in his eyes again.

He kissed her forehead. "I miss hearing that."

"I miss saying it."

She truly felt lightweight, like bubbles or Styrofoam.

"If you want, we can spend more time together. I'm seeing your sister tomorrow before she leaves. You can join us."

"I saw her yesterday. I'll be sure to call her though. I have other stuff to take care of, so you two have fun."

He nodded. "I understand. Next time. Take care of each other, okay?"

"We will."

Sighing, he stood up. "I guess I better be going. I have work tomorrow. Where are you working?"

She stood as well. "The FBI."

"I missed that much, huh?"

"Yeah, but I would like to catch up."

He kissed her forehead again. She really did miss her dad and hoped they could recreate their bond.

"Promise?" He held out his pinky for her.

She smiled, wrapped hers around his. "Promise."


	6. Dinner

This story is nearing the end. Just one more chapter. Thank you so much for reading. :)

* * *

Crane sat at the dining room table with his parents. He didn't eat his broccoli or mashed potatoes or chicken breast. There was too much he needed to say to them that there was no space in his stomach for food.

"What did you need to talk to us about, dear son?" his mother said.

"I am thirty-five years old. Am I not?"

His parents glanced at each other.

"Yes," his mother said.

"This age makes me an adult, correct?"

"Ichabod, speak plainly," his father said.

"I'm trying to say that I am content with the life I have, that I am not a child. You are my parents, and I understand you want what's best for me. However, I know what is best for me. I know what I wish for my life and what I do not wish for my life. My decisions are my decisions. You both have to respect them.

"Furthermore, I am not interested in Katrina. She doesn't support me or care about my interests or career. I will never be happy with a person like her, though I do wish her well with her endeavors. That is as far as it goes. Our relationship is no more. Is this understood?"

His father put his wine glass down while his mother wiped her mouth with her napkin.

"Ichabod, your mother and I, unfortunately, still feel that you are not making the proper choices with your life. It is necessary for us to speak up if we believe you aren't reaching your full potential."

"I agree. You are wasting your life away in a library. We both know you can do so much better."

Crane shook his head. Even after he explicitly told them he enjoyed his life, they still wouldn't acknowledge it. He pushed his plate back.

"All I've ever wanted was your support. I wanted you to be proud of me. Why do I have to own a business or court Katrina in order to seek favor from you? Do you truly believe I am failure?"

He didn't know why it was so hard for them to be satisfied with him.

His mother said, "We've told you our expectations. You haven't lived up to them. What else are we supposed to think?"

He wouldn't cry in front of them. If they knew just how harshly their words hurt him, they'd call him sensitive. He stood up.

"Don't leave, dear. Try to understand."

"I understand clearly, mother."

"You always were sensitive, Ichabod." His father chuckled. "Sit down and eat."

He gripped his hands behind his back. If the man and woman before him weren't his father and mother, he would've told them where to shove their expectations.

"Neither of you can see past your own snobbishness and nit-picking for anything else. It is not me who has failed you." He left the table.

Crane didn't know when he'd speak to them again. As much as he loved them, he knew he was much better without them in his life right now. Space sounded inviting. He did all he could to try to make them see who he was.

When he got into his car, the little boy in him, once filled with that penny-sized hope, wept.

* * *

Before she left the park, Abbie called her sister.

"Hello?" Jenny said.

"Hey. Do you have any plans right now?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to come over for P&S."

Jenny laughed. "I haven't heard that in a while. Send me your address."

That's how they referred to pizza and s'mores. It was their favorite foods, something they often ate at Corbin's. They'd stuff themselves silly and tell secrets about their imaginary friends.

"Ok. I'll be home in twenty."

Abbie sent her address once they hung up. She was excited to hang out with Jenny before she left again. Everything was heavy this week; a little fun time would do her some good, especially after finding out about mama's affair. And there was no telling when she'd see Jenny again.

When she pulled up, she saw her sister leaning against her car, on her phone, and with a grocery bag in her hand. Abbie stepped out with her purse and her own grocery bag.

"Hey," Abbie said.

"Took you long enough." Jenny smiled, put her phone in her jean pocket.

Abbie chuckled and shook her head. "Still impatient. I stopped by the store."

"To get?"

"Extra marshmallows."

Jenny held up her bag. "Same."

Both of them grinned and followed Abbie into her apartment building. They used the stairs.

"Remember when Corbin used to give us the extra bag of marshmallows, even though we just had s'mores?" Abbie said.

"We ate every one and had stomach aches."

Abbie laughed, unlocking her door. She let Jenny in first and closed the door behind them. "Why do think he did that?"

"We were two fucked up girls with shitty parents at the time. I think he just wanted us happy, especially when dad left."

They put their bags on the counter. Then Abbie preheated the oven and took out the pizza. She didn't see a note from Mr. 205 when she came in. She wondered where he was, if he was with his parents.

"That sounds about right." She paused. "I saw dad."

"Really?" Jenny leaned on the counter.

"Yeah."

"How'd it go?"

"Good. I'm glad I did it."

Jenny nodded. "Yeah. I've missed dad, too. He told you about mama?"

"Yeah." She glanced away from her sister. "I never knew that's what happened."

"A fucker, isn't it?"

"I mean damn. It wasn't even his fault. How do I forgive that?"

Their dad could've been there if it wasn't for her. Part of her wished he would've still made an effort to see them despite what mama said. He let another man fill his space instead. She sighed. It was in the past now; she had her dad back and would move forward with that.

"That's up to you."

"Did she tell you why?"

She nodded.

"What did she say?"

"Go talk to her."

"Jenny."

"If you want answers…"

"How do I even…?" She breathed. "This is bullshit."

She wasn't sure how she'd have a civil talk with her mama after this news. Never would she think mama was a cheater. If anything, she'd assume it was dad. There were a couple of women who flirted with him in the grocery store and in the neighborhood.

"Who was it?" she said.

"The oven is almost done preheating."

"Jenny?"

She put the pizza in the oven when it beeped. "Twenty minutes, right?" She set the timer.

"Was it Derek?"

Jenny was silent.

"That bitch."

"Abbie."

"Am I supposed to bite my fucking tongue? She cheated with him _and_ moved him in. You remember all the shit he did to us."

Sometimes they ran into him at the stairs. He'd be late for work some nights and sit on the last step, buttoning his pressed shirt and tying his polished shoes, courtesy of mama.

"Damn nappy headed kids," he said to them. Then he got up, pushed them aside. He left a slam in his rush.

On the weekends that Corbin and Joe went out of town, they were stuck home. Derek hardly spoke to them. He changed the channel when they watched cartoons, ate their favorite snacks in their faces, told them to shutup if they laughed too loud. What's worse is he hogged mama's attention. They talked to her but found themselves interrupted with his peppered kisses on her neck or with questions he deemed more important. Their eyes begged for her to stop him, to defend them. Each time, she smiled, said, "Be nice, girls." She left them with unfinished conversations, with silence, with empty honey bun boxes, and with golf to watch.

Jenny wrapped her pinky around Abbie's and wiped her tears with her other hand. "You can yell at the sky, sissy."

Abbie briefly touched her forehead to Jenny's, smiled a tiny bit. She was grateful for her comfort. It was something she missed a lot. Jenny never told her how to feel about anything.

"You're welcome."

There was knock on the door. Mr. 205.

"Expecting someone?" Jenny smirked, lifted her eyebrow.

Abbie shook her head and wiped her face to cover her smile. "Go fix the s'mores."

She wanted to run to the door but kept her cool in front her sister. A folded note fell when she opened her door. This was another comfort she was grateful for. She couldn't hide her giddiness.

 _Thank you for your kindness. Unfortunately, it did not work out between my parents as I had hoped. They cannot give me what I've been craving for the longest: support. My mother and father aren't content with the life I chose to live. They want me to be like them, to own businesses. I enjoy my work at library; it fulfills me. However, that is not how my parents see it. It saddens me more than ever, but this is how things are. Perhaps I am a failure. If I failed them, then there is no telling who else I will fail in the future._

 _Now, enough about me. I hope your day was filled with happiness and that everything went well with yours. One of us has to come out of this with a cheerier ending. My pick is you. You deserve nothing less._

 _Well, I suppose this note as drawn on long enough. I wish you nothing but joy with your mum and dad. Thank you for your compassion. Have a most wonderful night, Miss Abigail Mills._

 _-Ichabod Crane, 205_

She was sorry to hear about his parents. He seemed to have the worst end of it. At least hers reached out to her and wanted to make it right. His clearly didn't give a damn. She went back inside, scrambled for a longer sheet of paper, and a pen. At the table, she wrote what she wanted to say. Then she folded the sheet and put it between his door; she knocked and quickly left.

* * *

He grabbed her note from the floor, surprised she was home, let alone awake. Thankfully, he didn't interrupt her sleep. He opened it. A smile always came with these notes.

 _I'm sending you a hug through this piece of paper. You are not a failure. You are not a disgrace, Mr. 205. You're kind, a gentleman. You don't deserve any of this treatment. They don't deserve you. Just know that I give a damn though. I'm not your parents; I can't fill that void, but I fully support you. :)_

 _Things are slowly turning around with mine. I met with my dad today. We had a much-needed conversation. We're in a better place. I'm spending time with my sister as I write this. It's like old times._

 _As for mama, well, let's just say I found out some news. She did something that really tore our family apart when we were younger. Absorbing all that just makes me angry at her. I have questions. So many. But I'll talk to her when I've cooled down a bit._

 _This note is turning into a full-fledged letter, so I'm saying goodnight. Thank you for your note. It came at the right time. :)_

 _-Abbie Mills, 204_

Crane didn't know what else to do expect smile and write back. He'd leave it on her door in the morning, as not to disturb her time with her sister.

* * *

"What was that?" Jenny said, fixing the pan of s'mores.

How does she even explain this to her sister? "A thing."

"He didn't give you roses?" She glanced at the note on the table.

"It's just a thing, Jenny. And how do you know it's a he?"

She shrugged. "Seemed like it. What kind of thing?"

Abbie walked over to help her. "You're not gonna let up, are you?"

"Not a chance." She grinned.

Abbie sighed. "It was note from my neighbor."

"A love note?" She did that eyebrow thing.

Abbie explained how it all started and where they were now.

"That's a tale." She giggled. "So you haven't met him at all?"

"Nope. I have no clue what he looks like. He is British, however. I heard him yelling once. Not sure at who though."

"I wonder if he's tall and dark, too. You think he's single?"

"I don't know."

"You like him, don't you?"

Abbie tried not to beam. That attempt failed. She could admit to herself she was developing a little crush on Mr. 205.

"He's kind."

"You want to meet him?"

"Perhaps."

She'd love to meet him, to actually hear his voice and see his face. Jenny was probably on to something. Then again, temper expectations. These things never turned out how someone hoped.

"Do it. Knock on his door. Write him."

"I don't know if he wants to meet me."

"I'm pretty sure he does. You won't know if you don't ask. You have to do it."

"No."

She'd fee like an idiot if he rejected her.

"Little Miss Chicken."

Abbie cringed; she hated when Jenny called her that. It always forced her to prove otherwise.

"I'm not a fucking chicken."

"Meet him."

"No. And I'm not a chicken." She threw a marshmallow at her.

Jenny threw one back. "Yes, you are, Little Miss Chicken."

As they laughed, they tossed them at each other until the oven beeped. Then they fixed their plates, popped the s'mores in, and filled up on pepperoni and sausage until dessert was ready. Both of them sat on the floor, face to face, in front of the sofa, like they did as kids. They told pieces of their lives the other didn't know about and ate the s'mores and all the marshmallows in the bag they had earlier. They fell asleep with linked pinkies and plump bellies.


	7. Breakfast

I thought this would be the last chapter, but it got longer than I expected. One more after this. Enjoy. :)

* * *

Abbie's alarm went off for work; she shut it off, glanced at her sister, who fell asleep in her lap last night.

"Wake up, snail," she said in Jenny's ear, as she played with her hair.

She was the worst at waking up in the morning and took her time, so that was her nickname. Sometimes, she barely made it out the bed. They were late to school on a few occasions.

Jenny moaned. "No."

"At least get off me." She chuckled.

Jenny did; she leaned against the other end of the sofa. Abbie shook her head, stood up to stretched, and kissed her sister's forehead before heading into the kitchen. As she put on some coffee, she decided not to go to work today. She figured she'd spend more time with her sister and maybe visit mama. Maybe. She may even decide to see Mr. 205.

Abbie checked to see if she had a note. Alas, she did and grabbed it off the door.

 _Good morning, Abbie. I hope this finds you well. I'm so glad you have your sister and father back in your life again. As for your mother, I am sorry to hear that. Perhaps you can reconnect with her as you have with them. I'll send a prayer your way. I can imagine having the conversation about said news won't be easy._

 _As for my own parents, I hope they see the error of their ways, where they lack. However, I doubt that moment will ever come. It is comforting to know I do have support from someone. It means so very much to me. You have to know you have the same from me._

 _Before I go, I wanted to ask you a question. We've been writing notes for this entire week. I would love to meet you in person. After all, we are neighbors. There is no reason why we shouldn't meet each other. I'm surprised one of us hasn't caught the other outside our door yet. It keeps the mystery and excitement I suppose. However, I would very much like to meet you and thank you in person for your kindness. Would you be opposed to meeting with me this evening at 6p.m.? If you do not wish to I understand._

 _-Ichabod Crane, 205_

She thought she'd drop the note or something. Her stomach did weird things. So Mr. 205 did want to meet her. She bit her lip and went back inside to write him.

* * *

Crane wondered if he made a mistake. He hoped he wasn't too forward or spooked her. The cup of tea he drank wouldn't calm him down. All he wanted to hear was a knock on his door. He wasn't even sure if she'd be awake at this time. It was six in the morning. He wasn't even supposed to be up yet. His work day started at 9. He was up late, too, holding on to a note that caused him so much anxiety. Crane did manage some hours of sleep, though he purposefully set his alarm for six. It was bad enough he waited until the morning to give it to her. What's worse is he had to wait for her response. There was no telling when she'd get around to it and what she'd say. Surprisingly, his answer arrived quicker than he expected. He inhaled and exhaled before getting his note.

 _Good morning, Mr. 205, I'm going to need that prayer. Sending one your way, too. I'm glad I have some of my family back. It won't be easy talking to my mama, but it has to be done soon._

 _I do hope your parents will come to realize how they've affected you. That's got to be hard to deal with as their son. No child wants to feel unsupported and inadequate. No parent should want their child to feel like that._

 _I'm surprised about that, too. We should've been bound to catch the other. And my answer is yes. I'd like us to meet. I'll knock at six. :)_

 _-Abbie Mills, 204_

Whatever nerves he thought he had before have now overwhelmed him. What if the time came and she changed her mind? What if she didn't like what she saw? He hoped she'd like him. Through their notes, he's come to find himself attracted to her, to her straightforwardness. She said how she felt and seemed like a no nonsense person, like she took charge. He looked forward to meeting her and wrote as much.

* * *

As she sipped her coffee, she heard the sound that always made her stomach drop and hands sweaty. She went for the door, found the tapped note.

 _Thank you, Abbie. I could use it. I will see you this evening. It will be my absolute pleasure to properly introduce myself to you._

 _-Ichabod Crane, 205_

She closed her door and turned around to find Jenny leaning on the counter, drinking her coffee, and reading the notes she normally had on her fridge.

"What the hell are you doing?" she said.

"I meant to ask about these yesterday. You kept them?"

Abbie didn't know if she was more upset at Jenny reading her notes or stealing her coffee. Her sister did have a nasty habit of invading her privacy. There was nothing she didn't know that she wouldn't eventually find out. Either she snooped through Abbie's things or she questioned her until she got the truth. She sighed, grabbed her coffee from her. Jenny fixed her own before returning to the notes.

"They're thoughtful. Okay?" She added the other one to the pile.

"He's so proper."

She nodded. "I like it though."

"Nice handwriting, too."

"Yep." She paused. "I'm going to do it."

Jenny glanced up, smiling. "Really? When?"

"Later today."

"You nervous?"

"A little."

That was a lie. She was terrified. Her shaky hand told her so as she wrote him. She didn't know anything about him, except about his parents. There was no telling who he really was or what he looked like. He could've been a serial killer for all she knew.

"Just be careful. And speaking of meeting people…"

"Don't start," she said as she took out food and pans for breakfast.

Jenny helped her. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but maybe you should see—"

"No."

"Why? You've already saw me and dad."

"I'm not ready."

"You won't ever be ready. Just tell her how you feel. What harm could that do?"

"I don't want to see mama right now."

"She's changed."

She scoffed. "Like hell."

"She knows she's done wrong."

"Don't defend her."

"I'm not. I just… She misses you."

"Fuck her. She didn't give damn about us when we were younger. She didn't miss us when she sent us to Corbin all that time."

She knew it wasn't right to say that about her mama. If she heard her say that her mama would've slapped the shit out of her, but it's how she felt right now.

"Fine. I'll drop it."

"What she did to us…" She was about to cry.

Abbie didn't know how she'd even look at her, let alone speak to her. How could mama think what she did was okay?

Jenny hugged her. "I know it hurts. But eventually you have to let it go. You can't hold all that. It's too heavy."

She let herself be held as she unraveled, not knowing if she'd feel light after she spoke to her mama.

* * *

Over breakfast, Jenny read the rest of the notes as Abbie called in sick to work.

"Someone's playing hookie." Jenny chewed her bacon.

"Only for you. Let's just have an Us Day."

"Don't take off for me."

"You're my sister. Simple as that."

"Well, I appreciate it, Abbs."

"Why are you up so early? I'm surprised."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm going right back to sleep after this. The coffee smelled good. You know how much I like coffee. And I heard you leave. I wanted to make sure you came back."

"Were you afraid I wasn't?" She bit into her French toast.

Her eyes fell to her plate. "Maybe."

"What is it?"

She sighed. "I just don't want to do anything that'll make you shut me out again. That wasn't fun."

"I'm really sorry about that, Jenny. There's nothing you can do to make me shut you out. No matter how pissed I may be. You didn't do anything wrong. I should've been happy for you. I shouldn't have pushed you away. The break in our relationship was my fault.

"And what if I do something to push you away? I don't want that either. Being away from you sucks ass. I was stupid to keep you at arm's length for so long."

She didn't want Jenny to feel guilty for leaving. Abbie was the one being selfish. It was her own abandonment issues that got in the way. What Jenny did wasn't to hurt her.

"I should've known what my leaving would have done to you. I was—"

"Quite it. I mean it. I thought we were past this."

"We are, but… I don't want to lose you again."

"I don't want to lose you either. I'm right here. Promise."

They finished breakfast with tied pinkies.

* * *

Crane reordered some books on a shelf when Marissa, one of his co-workers, tapped his shoulder. He liked Marissa. She was supportive.

"Did you need my assistance?"

"No, but you have some guests here to see you. They're waiting at the front desk."

Guests? They? Who would be here to see him? No one visited him at work. All of his friends were here. His relatives were all back in England. It couldn't be his parents, could it? He wasn't in the mood to see them.

"What do the guests look like?"

"A man and a woman, about middle-aged, kind of look like you."

He almost dropped the books he was holding. "Hell hath frozen over. Thank you. If you'll excuse me."

He put the books on the shelf and hurried to the front desk. Hell hath frozen over indeed. There were his parents, in business suits, glancing around as if they've never stepped foot in an establishment quite like this. It was laughable really. Ironically enough, they met in a library during a study session for a business exam in college. He rolled his eyes. It's not like this place is foreign to them.

"What are you doing here?"

"That's no way to greet the people who raised you, Ichabod," his father said.

"I will only ask you to leave once."

"Don't be like that," his mother said.

He balled his fists. "What do you two want?"

"We came to see your place of work. Katrina would laugh if she were here." His father began to walk around.

His mother followed. "It's mighty quiet in here. It almost feels like the dead."

"I supposed you ought to know. You are quite close to it yourself. How old are you again?"

"Don't get snippy with me."

"Respect your mother, Ichabod."

He stepped in front of them, so they wouldn't go any further. "Why are you here?"

"We thought about what you said over dinner yesterday."

"And?"

It took walking out mid-dinner for them to hear him.

"It seemed you were quite serious when you left."

He couldn't believe his ears. He's always been serious about his life, about the words he's spoken. If this was an apology, it wasn't starting out well.

"Your father and I talked. Though you can do better than this—"

"If you aren't going to say anything worth listening to, then I highly suggest you take your exit. I will not listen to you insult this place and me."

"I wasn't finished. You have been clear. Your job makes you happy, and if it's what you want, then we won't say anything more. We still don't agree, but we hear you." She put her hand on his cheek.

His father patted his shoulder. "What your mother said."

Crane thought they gave the most half-assed apology, if he could call it that. He figured this was as much as he was going to get from them. He'd try to move on with that he supposed.

"You may leave now."

"What do you say to us for coming down here?" his mother said.

They hardly even apologized. Goodness, were they prideful. He shouldn't have to thank his parents for being there, for understanding. They should've done that automatically. He was their son.

"Have a good day."

He let them escort their own selves out.

* * *

It felt good sleeping in until 2p.m. She slept better with her sister. After breakfast, she gave Jenny some comfortable clothes while she washed and dried the ones she had on last night. They watched some of their favorite movies on Netflix. Then they knocked out on Abbie's bed.

"Are you up, snail?" She shook her sister.

"No." Jenny put the covers over her head.

"Come on. I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

"Sleep."

"You'll sleep all day if I let you." She pulled the covers from her.

"Abbie!"

"Up."

Jenny groaned. "Fine."

They got ready and decided to go to the diner Abbie always met Corbin at on Sundays.

* * *

"Do you know what you want?" Jenny said, searching through her menu.

"Not for lunch, but I know what I want for dessert: apple pie and ice cream."

"Like the old man." She laughed, shaking her head.

"His favorite."

Jenny stopped smiling all of a sudden.

"What?" Abbie didn't know what Jenny looked at behind her until she turned around herself.

Her smile shrunk, too, as she saw the woman she didn't want to see yet. They had the same wide eyes and open mouth as they stared at each other.

"Mama."


	8. Six

The last chapter. Thank you so, so much for reading. :)

* * *

Everything about mama was the same: her curly hair, her red lipstick, her cardigan.

"Abbie?" she said, walking around to their booth.

Jenny looked like she didn't know what the hell to say.

"How are you? It's been a minute." She fixed her cardigan. "Can I sit with my girls? It's been so long since I've seen both of you together."

"You can take my spot. I was just headed to the bathroom." Jenny slid out the booth and mama took her place.

"We were actually leaving."

"Abbs."

She didn't want to be near her. To say she was blindsided was an understatement.

"No, Jenny."

"It's just lunch."

Lunch her ass. She knew what Jenny was doing.

"I lost my appetite."

"Stay." She paused. "Abbs, please?"

She sighed. Her sister defeated her with that please thing. She couldn't stand it because it made her give in to Jenny. It could be the last brownie and she pulled that shit. Her eyes got all wide and cute; she'd bite her lip and pout.

"Go pee."

Abbie already knew her sister was going to sit at a back table and watch them have an awkward conversation.

Jenny kissed her and mama's cheek. "I'll be back."

Then she left. It was them now. A mama excited to see what her daughter had become and a daughter who couldn't forget her mama's past mistakes. They opened their menus.

"You've grown up to be so beautiful." She smiled.

Her eyes flew over the drink choices. A lemonade would not be strong enough to get her through this.

"What's good here, Bie?"

That nickname was especially hers. It calmed her down when she was worried or afraid. But now it didn't fit so easily in her ears.

"Don't call me that."

"You're too big for that now?"

How was she supposed to sit here and do this without exploding?

"Bie?"

"You don't get to call me that."

"But I like—"

"I don't care."

She put her menu down. "I'm still your mama."

That was it.

"A mama doesn't have an affair and ruin her family. A mama doesn't let the guy she cheated with move into her home, knowing he doesn't like kids. A mama doesn't put said guy before her children and leave them at a fucking neighbor's house. Anything could've happened to us. Thank God Corbin is a decent man; he practically took us in. You don't get to call yourself my mama."

She wiped the tears from her face. Abbie didn't care that she hurt her. She was hurt, too.

"I'm sorry, Abigail. How many times do I need to say it?"

In a booth not too far from them, she met eyes with Jenny, who shook her head, reminding her to calm down.

"I don't accept your apology."

"I don't know what you want."

Her tears came, too. "Why didn't you choose us? Why weren't we important enough? You were all we had."

"I was selfish. I was thirty and married with two children. It was like my life passed, like I was losing myself. Everything I did was for you girls and your father. There was nothing for me, for Lori. When I met Derek, we were friends first. He made our relationship all about me: what I wanted to eat, what I wanted to watch, what I wanted to do for fun. That's why I did what I did. My decisions wrecked everyone. And I hope you can forgive me."

To Abbie, it sounded like it was their fault for her mama's infidelity, like they were the ones who sucked everything from her until she had nothing to give. They weren't demanding children. Dad wasn't demanding either. She wanted to empathize. Yes, she's heard stories about women forgetting to cater to themselves after a marriage and kids. Yet, her relationship with Derek wasn't a good choice. Sleeping with another man was not how she should've found herself. Counseling would've been a better option or simply talking to her dad. There's always another way.

This didn't make her feel any better, but at least her mama seemed genuinely sorry. She did try to call to make up with her. That was worth something, though they still had a ways to go.

"That's no excuse."

"No, but that's the truth. I am sorry, Bie."

Not that she cared, but she said, "Are you still with him?"

"It ended about five years ago."

"What happened?"

"I saw him looking at photo of you and Jenny. He made the nastiest comment. He called you nappy heads and unintelligent, said all you two would be good for was whoring. That's when I woke up. The things I let happen to my babies, how I let him treat you girls, the excuses I made for him, everything drowned me." She shook her head. "I was a terrible mother. I had to make it right, so I did. First with Jenny and hopefully, with you. I was sure to thank Corbin for looking after my girls. He stepped in for your father, too. I owe him. He did a wonderful job."

She was glad her mama got rid of that asshole. He wasn't doing anyone any good, especially her and Jenny. Corbin told her she stopped him one day while he was on his way to work. She thanked and hugged him. All Abbie said was, "As well she should" and left it at that. Corbin earned a thank you from both her parents. She knew her dad was grateful for him, too.

"Corbin's great. I still see him."

"Tell him hi for me."

"I will." She took a deep breath. "Look, we have a lot to sort through. It's not gonna happen today or tomorrow. I'm still angry with you, but we'll take our time getting back to where we were."

Her mama reached across the table to briefly squeeze her hand. "That's all I want."

Abbie nodded and saw Jenny walk over toward them.

"How are you two?" she said.

"We're getting to a better place," Abbie said. "Would you like to have lunch with us, mama?"

She smiled and nodded.

They had to start somewhere.

* * *

"I'm proud of you, sissy," Jenny said, grabbing her pinky with hers.

"Thank you. We'll take it slow."

Jenny nodded. "It's almost six."

Abbie paced in her living room. They stayed at the diner, talking to mama about their time with Corbin and finding each other again. Mama was happy for them. Now, it was almost time to meet Mr. 205, Mr. Ichabod Crane. She had to be prepared for anything.

"Yeah."

"Yell for help, okay?"

Abbie nodded, even though she knew self-defense. But she liked the idea of her sister coming to her rescue like she did for her.

"Nervous?"

"I'm going batshit crazy." She laughed.

* * *

Five minutes. Crane only had to wait five minutes. Why wouldn't his clock move? Would she even want to meet him still? She could've changed her mind. Four minutes. He wondered what she looked like. If she was tall or short or had freckles and short hair. Heaven forbid she be like Katrina. That's the last thing he needed. He watched the clock until it hit five fifty-seven.

* * *

One hundred and twenty seconds. She bit her nail.

"You think he's black?" Abbie said.

"I don't know. Would it matter?"

"No. It could matter to him though."

"Well, then we'll know he's racist fuck and no good for you."

"Right." She walked to her door. "I'm going to wait outside."

* * *

Time. He stood as close to his door as possible. His fingers twitched. Stuff bubbled in his belly down to his toes. He thought he was losing his mind. Was she really on the other side of the door?

* * *

She knocked. The door opened. There he was. Mr. 205. Mr. Ichabod Crane himself. He had a beard. Abbie liked beards. They were sexy. White skin. Blue eyes. Tall. Slim. His fingers looked like they could reach places in her. He was definitely attractive, with a bookish look. She lucked up. Jenny would get a kick out of this.

"Hi," she said.

"Good evening, Miss Mills."

His voice could drop her fucking panties.

* * *

Crane thought she was exquisite. He was sure to thank God. She was a clear foot shorter than him. Beautiful brown skin and large light brown eyes, like a doe. Plump lips he'd loved to kiss for days. Her beauty conquered him; her voice leaked with strength.

* * *

"Nice to meet you, Ichabod," she said.

She couldn't believe it. He was here. In front of her. In person. She didn't expect this. Quite the opposite. She was excited to see where they'd go, if they'd have a lasting friendship, if they'd become more. There were possibilities with them.

He smiled. "You as well, Miss Mills. Thank you so much for your notes. They've brought me so much encouragement and joy."

He sounded just like his notes: kind, proper, optimistic.

"So have yours. They've helped a lot."

"I'm very pleased to hear it. I saw my parents today. They unexpectedly visited my job. I like their nerve."

"My mama caught me by surprise today, too."

"How did your encounter go?"

"She heard my side; I heard hers. We're taking it slow. You?"

"I wish you the very best in your relationship. I hope it becomes what it once was. You deserve nothing short of happiness in your life, Miss Mills. As for my parents…" He sighed. "They gave what they thought was an apology. Quite frankly, I'd rather have had them not show up at all."

She nodded. "Thank you. And if your parents don't fully get their heads out of their asses, then fuck them. You should be proud of yourself and proud of who you are regardless."

"Agreed. Would you like to come in? I could prepare us some tea."

She giggled. He seemed like the type.

"Sure."

They went inside and had tea and talked and talked and talked. There was no yelling.


End file.
